Director Report Card: Mary Harron (2023)

7. Dalíland

Some films, or rather some filmmakers, are just unlucky. On paper, a biographical film about Salvador Dalí sounds like a sure shot. Dalí is one of the most famous artists of all time, an iconic figure not just in the art world but in all of popular culture, all over the world. The man and his work is beloved and controversial, sparking debate. The perfect subject for a film to cover. Pair up that role with the right actor and you're liable to get some sort of awards attention. This was the set-up of Mary Harron's latest film, “Dalíland.” Ben Kingsley would star as the world renown, mustachioed painter. And, alright, Kinglsey has done a lot of shitty, forgettable movies but he's still widely regarded as a great actor. His presence in a movie isn't nothing. And yet “Dalíland” would be barely released this year with little to no fanfare, ignored by both cinema goers and critics. The question of why this played out the way it did is now one I will attempt to answer.

In 1973, James Linton, a worker at a New York art gallery, is told that living legend Salvador Dalí is looking for a new assistant. Obviously a fan of Dalí, Linton leaps at the chance. James soon finds himself immersed in the unique world of Dalí, where wild parties full of eccentrics – literally models and rock stars – are a nightly occurrence. Linton also butts heads with Gala, Dalí's equally notorious wife, who is currently carrying on a love affair with rock singer Jeff Fenholt. As Linton attempts to navigate this world, and encourage Dalí to finish some paintings, he falls in bed with a young lady himself while also discovering far more about his idol and his personal life than he ever knew.

The first answer that comes to mind, when I pose the question of why “Dalíland” was completely buried earlier this year, is simply... Because it's not very good. Probably the biggest problem facing the film is one that occasionally crops up in biopics. Instead of just making the movie about the famous subject matter, some pedestrian audience surrogate is inserted into the story. This presents several problems. First off, Salvador Dalí is destined to be the most interesting person in the room no matter who he's standing next to. (Assuming Luis Buñuel wasn't in the room that day.) Asking the audience to relate to some other fucking guy, when an immediately fascinating figure like that is around, is a pretty big ask. 

Worst yet, James Linton isn't even a real person. Upon watching “Dalíland,” I assumed the movie must be based on a book written by some young man who actually held this position in Dalí's life. Considering how the movie ends, that struck me as extremely likely. A minute of research proves this to not entirely be the case. Linton is a composite character from a number of real life people who rotated in and out of this position back in the day. Unsurprisingly, Dalí and Gala burned through assistants quickly. This shows that Harron and screenwriter John C. Walsh decided to make a movie about Dalí – Harron has said that this is a project she's spent year developing – and consciously made the choice to have the film not actually be about Salvador Dalí, without even adapting one specific book written from someone else's perspective. 

From a marketing level, I can see how this decision could possibly make sense. “Oh, the average theater goer isn't going to be interested in some old, dead artist, much less one as deliberately weird and abrasive as Dalí was. We have to make this movie about some 20-something twink if we expect the zoomers to see this.” Not that this movie played in more than a handful of theaters... This also goes against the obvious logic at work here, that the people most inclined to see a movie about Dalí are people already interested in Dalí. All of that aside, if the script or star had invested even the tiniest amount of effort into making the protagonist compelling, all of that could've, possibly, been forgiven. Unfortunately, as audience surrogates almost always are, James Linton is a completely bland slab of stale cheese. The role is played by Christopher Briney who is – and I could tell this just from looking at him – best known for starring in a mildly popular streaming series based on some Y.A. romance books. Briney has that blank, pretty quality that makes him irresistible to casting directors and completely uninviting to audiences. His performance here is comparable to a cardboard marionette, unenthusiastically puppetted around the screen. 

All of this, I suppose, is me complaining about the movie I wanted “Dalíland” to be, instead of considering it as the movie it actually is. Alright, let me attempt to meet this film on its own level. Obviously, the premise behind “Dalíland” is that Linton is swept up in this crazy world, centered around an aging but incredibly eccentric icon and all the colorful hanger-ons that hang-on to him. In the process, he will learn a lot about his idol and a little about himself. “Dalíland” at least gets the first half of that set-up briefly right. The early scenes of the wild parties Dalí throws are kind of compelling. We see people do drugs, snorting cocaine off gold platters, as they dance the night away in wild costumes. Linton is invited into a threesome, which Salvador watches and masturbates too. We weren't going to get out of this story with a peek into the mad artist's sex life, naturally... A montage is devoted to Linton assembling some nude models for Dalí, who then dip their asses in paint and press them against a canvas. Dalí hangs out with Alice Cooper and other luminaries of the time, all witnessed through the protagonist's eyes.

However, we never really get a grip on what effect this has on Linton. The biggest reason for that is because the character is so completely undeveloped. He falls in love, or at least lust, with a model and they share a brief affair, a plot point that comes and goes with little meaning or impact on the story. After a few weeks with his new boss, Linton says that he feels like he belongs in Dalí's world, that he's finally found the place for him. If that's the case, we never get much of a sense of it through the film. James is such a passive observer to everything that happens, so totally void of personality of his own, that any growth or change he undergoes is completely unnoticed by the audience. At the end of the film, he seems to be the exact same person he was at the beginning. The film stubbornly refuses to make this guy interesting in any way whatsoever, once again making you wonder why the fuck the movie is about him. Instead of the person whose name is in the goddamn title!

Moreover, there's little indication that Linton's time with Dalí had any impact on the artist's life as well. Dalí calls Linton St. Sebastian, his nickname for all the pretty boys that passed through his home, proving that he considered them interchangable. He shows him around some sentimental spots and regales him with stories of his youth. Which, one imagines a well-known egomaniac (though one that probably earned the right to be a bit egotistical) like Dalí probably did with everyone. The concluding moment of the movie, I assumed, was an act of ego-stroking on the real Linton's behalf, an imagined scenario where the man assumed his time with Dalí meant a lot more to him than it actually did. But, like I said, Linton is a stand-in for a number of dudes, so one assumes that sequence is the work of Harron and her husband too. 

Another big reason, I think, “Dalíland” got buried at the box office is who it stars. Or rather, who it was meant to star. See, it was announced, early on, that the film was going to star Ezra Miller. The part of Linton was, I was unsurprised to discover, written with Miller in mind. However, scheduling conflicts forced Miller to take a much smaller role in the film. Instead, they play the younger version of Dalí, which ends up occupying all of two or three scenes in the entire movie. “Scheduling conflicts,” anyway, is what Harron blames Miller's lessened role in the film on. I have no idea how much of Miller's problematic behavior was well known in 2021, when “Dalíland” was filming, but you can only assume that everyone was aware of the incoming storm regarding that issue. (One also assumes that “Dalíland” was dumped into a few theaters this past summer in some faint hope that it could ride the coattails of the big tent pole superhero movie Miller starred in, which flopped in theaters exactly a week after this did.) 

Miller, in their few scenes, seems to do what they usually do. That would be mug furiously, displaying a twitching body language and sporting a wispy as hell mustache, as an unconvincing facsimile of a young Dalí. These flashback scenes make up only a small portion of the film, which again raises a serious question. The life of Dalí, especially his young friendship with Bunuel and rise through the art scene, is obviously a really dramatic story that would be a great basis for a movie... Which, of course, it has been. But “Dalíland” is partially focused on Dalí's relationship with his wife and muse Gala, which gave the film an angle to explore that “Little Ashes” didn't cover. The peeks we get at the stormy relationship between Dalí and Gala are definitely the highlight of “Dalíland.” Once again, there's the unavoidable question of why did the filmmakers choose to focus on this bland surrogate character when there's such a fascinating, dramatically juicy narrative already right here to explore.

With the way it constantly botches attempts to make a story-worth-telling actually interesting, “Dalíland” eventually falls apart totally in its last act. With all other avenues of making its audience surrogate compelling exhausted, the script focuses on the idea that some of the people around Dalí were ripping him off. Selling fakes of his work for inflated prices and so on. A figure like Salvador Dalí, and Gala Dalí, clearly have some big ideas floating around them. Was she just another one of the hanger-ons of Dalí's infamous reputation? The way she's sleeping with a long-haired rocker dude, and helping him launch his own doomed career, certainly suggests that. At the same time, at this point in his career, Dalí was kind of a burn-out too, spending more time partying and canoodling with celebs than actually creating mind-bending works of art. 

The question has always floated around a theatrical, self-promoting figure like Dalí, whether he actually earned his reputation, if it was all hype. Was he a true pioneer or just remarkably good at selling himself? A genius or a hack? Not to mention the way Dalí's capricious – and probably contrarian, I've always felt – politics effected his standing in the art world. Naturally, that topic is only touched upon here in the most superficial of ways, via one line from Dalí about the king of Spain. All of this proves to just be yet another dropped thread, an interesting premise the movie bats around and never really addresses on the way to a hugely anticlimatic ending.

Ultimately, the only thing “Dalíland” really has going for it is a pretty decent Ben Kingsley performance. Kingsley is one of those actors that always gives it his all, no matter if the film around him doesn't live up to his talent. (Which they often do not.) Clearly a figure as divisive and outrageous as Dalí provides Kingsley with a chance to ham it up nicely. He does so and even manages to give the artist a bit of pathos, during his rare moments of self-reflection. Otherwise, “Dalíland” is wasted potential from beginning to end. A great idea for a movie that fumbles the ball by taking the most boring angle possible to explore its topic from. Maybe Mary Harron's next movie will be good... [Grade: C-]

Director Report Card: Kelly Reichardt (2023)

8. Showing Up

In 1914, Canadian painter and First Nations advocate Emily Carr would return to her Victoria home town. She opened a boarding house called the House of All Sorts, hopeful that having a day job as a landlord would allow her more time to paint. In fact, the new job proved to take up most of her free time and she painted little over the next decade. This story must've touched something in Kelly Reichardt's brain. She set out to make a movie inspired by this story, even traveling to Canada to research Carr. Upon discovering Carr was more well known than she realized, and not wanting to make a direct biopic, the seed of this idea evolved into a new film. A24 would scoop up “Showing Up,” which would attract critical praise on the festival circuit, including being nominated for the Palme D'or at Cannes. 

Lizzy is a struggling artist, doing what she can to complete her sculptures. She has an upcoming art show that she is preparing for. However, balancing her artistic passion with her daily responsibilities proves challenging. Her landlord, another artist named Jo, keeps forgetting to turn the hot water back on. Her father has strange people living with him. Her brother, Sean, seems to be having a mental breakdown. Her mother demands she complete a lot of office work at her former art college. Adding to this pressure is when Lizzy's cat attacks a pigeon that flew into her studio. Jo finds the bird, unaware that Lizzy's cat injured it, and begins to care for it. Soon enough, this little animal is added to Liz's growing list of obligations. 

Anybody who has any sort of creative passion – whether that be writing, painting, sculpting, or anything else under the sun – has surely experienced this. You're working hard to get into the groove, to get those creative juices pumping. You're trying to focusing on completing something that means a lot to you, that expresses something important to you. You've put a lot of thought into it. And, five minutes after you've started, the dog needs to go out. Or your phone rings and your sister needs you to run an errand for her. It's always something like that, isn't it? Sometimes you can get back into the creative mindset quickly afterwards. More often, your entire evening is derailed. This is an all-too-common challenge for all of us and it's something “Showing Up” captures very well. It seems Lizzy is always pushing her self to get more done and is always getting distracted by some other pressing matter. 

“Showing Up” doesn't attempt to find any definitive answer to why this happens so often. Kelly Reichardt isn't that kind of filmmaker. However, the movie does have a fairly clear observation to be made. Lizzy is a quote-unquote successful artist, in the sense that she's far more successful at what she does than most people. She has a gallery show and interested buyers. Yet, even from her position, it's clear that no one values her time. Jo doesn't think to turn the hot water back on because she doesn't think Lizzy's comfort is important. She's constantly helping out with her parents because she knows it's her responsibility. No one ever considers if her time has any value. No one sees her pulling an all-nighter to complete her sculptures. No one sees her stressing about the incoming deadline. Art is not valued in our capitalistic society, because it doesn't produce the kind of receipts the way lots of other labor does. Without committing on it too directly, “Showing Up” clearly shows how difficult it is to function as an artist in such a world.

A small, key moment occurs when Lizzy visits Jo's studio, as she prepares for her own show. It's been a challenge for Lizzy to complete her project. One of her sculptures got burned in the kiln, to which another man assumes it's not a big deal. It's just so easy for everyone else, isn't it? “Showing Up” never dwells long on the role ego and, perhaps, even arrogance plays in the artistic world. Lizzy is never seen disparaging her fellow artists for having better luck or an easier time than her. And maybe she doesn't feel any resentment or jealousy. But if she did, who could blame her? Some of us struggle and struggle to achieve anything. Others seem to have few problems getting what they want. Even if it only seems that way, you can't help but feel a certain way about that. With just a look, Reichardt and her team conveys so much meaning. 

Time, of course, is always of the essence. Not just because Lizzy has an incoming art show she has to be ready for. Her father lets friends of his, that Lizzy doesn't know and doesn't have any reason to trust, live with him. Is this simply an example of bohemian eccentricity? Or is her dad's mental acuity starting to slip? It would be a valid concern, not just because her dad is old but because, as her brother's erratic behavior proves, mental illness issues clearly run in the family. Is part of why Lizzy feels so pressured to get her art out there is this lingering fear that, maybe, some day she won't be able to sculpt or paint at all? Then again, I suppose we're all going to run out of time eventually. Her brother digs up a massive hole in his backyard, in an act of mania, which recalls a man digging his own grave. How much of our lives, that we could spend making art that's important to us, do we waste on little, common bullshit? How much closer to the grave does every distraction brings us?

One has to ask to whom someone is responsible after a certain point. We need hot water to live. We have to take jobs to make the funds necessary to survive. But what about our family? If Lizzy's mom, dad, and brother drive her so crazy, if they pull her away from her passion so often, why doesn't she choose to put them out of her life? “Showing Up” doesn't offer a definitive answer. We don't even learn what exactly is wrong with her brother, though it's obviously some sort of mental or emotional disruption. Clearly, Lizzy feels she owes it to her family members to watch after them. It's a responsibility we choose, after a certain age. They took care of us in the past and so we must return the favor. Maybe not everyone struggles with this but clearly the protagonist of “Showing Up” does. She takes care of her family, her art, and the pigeon. Artists are built to nurture things, from creation to finality. Perhaps those of us in that frame of mind are simply predisposed to it. 

A few times in the past, Reichardt has used animals in her films as embodiment of the story's themes or ideas. Such as Lucy the dog or the covertly milked titular bovine in “First Cow.” The little injured pigeon is clearly symbolic of the journey in “Showing Up.” That she ends up in Lizzy's care, after her cat harmed it, seems to represent how she looks after her brother and parents. It seems to be karmic in some ways. Or maybe Lizzy is just unlucky. Either way, she has to show up – the title is significant – and take care of the bird every day. She constantly references changing the newspaper it poops on. At the same time, she's working on her sculptures, showing up and trying to get them done. After watching after the pigeon for the whole movie, at her gallery show, it flies away. Not to dissimilar to how it is with a work of art. You baby it, foster it, look after it closely, and then you let it loose. And maybe, perhaps, that's the attitude Lizzy needs to take with her family too.

Ultimately, “Showing Up” fits in neatly with Reichardt's other films. She has a distinct style by this point. Christopher Blauvelt, her regular cinematographer by now, shoots many of the scenes with a far-off, observational eye. “Showing Up” feels even more like a documentary than some of Reichardt's prior films, in the way it watches people as they go about their day. We see Lizzy and Jo linger on their artistic projects, managing the minutia of assembling an unique creation. This approach fits with “Showing Up's” thesis about doing the grunt work everyday. It's not a film that focuses on the glory and pay-off of being an artist. It's about the daily drudgery, of making sure the thing gets done even if you have a hundred things pulling you away from it ever day. That the film shows us more of the mundane aspects of the job then anything us shouldn't be surprising. 

This means “Showing Up” is not an especially action-packed movie. In the past, I tend to swing back and forth on Reichardt's movies, finding them either highly emotional experiences or having trouble keeping my eyes open the whole time. “Showing Up” straddles this line throughout. I've seen other people, including some press material, refer to the film as a “comedy.” This is a lot like calling “Old Joy” or “Certain Women” comedies. You may chuckle once or twice, at a relatable situation, but they are not gut-busting, laugh-a-minute knee-slappers. Truthfully, I found the loneliness and frustration on display in “Showing Up” way too personal to laugh too much at it.  I feel Lizzy's pain and I also understand her daily struggle. Yet it's hard to get around how crushingly slow this film can be at times. On a surface level, even if you appreciate the artist's issues, this is still a movie where not a lot visibly happens.

Nevertheless, it's a worthwhile watch. Michelle Williams stars as Lizzy, making her fourth appearance in a Reichardt joint. And I didn't even recognize her at first. Williams, an actress with such an innate beauty and grace to her that she once played Marilyn Monroe, dresses down here to say the least. She spends the entire movie slouching, sticking her chin out in such a way that she looks very jowly, an unflattering bowl cut wig on her head, wearing dowdy dresses and big T-shirts the whole time. You read a lot about glamorous stars “uglying it up” for awards' recognition. Which I don't think was Williams' goal with such an understated movie as this. Clearly, this is just what the part called for. Yet it is surprising to see a known actor disappear so totally into a part. Williams' performance is impressive, in the sense that she's totally unrecognizable, that the star ceases to exist and all we see is the character existing in their natural environment.

This is not a movie of overstated and bold emotions, so the impressions we get of the character emerges from the crinkles in Williams' brow, the consternation in her voice, the frustration on her face as she tries her best. If anything, the supporting cast gets to do the showier acting. Hong Chau plays Jo as someone without a care in the world, an ideal foil to Lizzy and the constant difficult she has getting the simplest things done. John Magaro as Sean gets the showier part, giving us a good idea of how this person is loosing his mind without overdoing it in any way. Judd Hirsch does what we expect from him, making Lizzy's dad a likable and avuncular presence with only a little bit of screen time. Amanda Plummer has a cameo as one of his house guest. Brighter personalities stick out in a film as intentionally muted as this.

It's happened before. “Meek's Cutoff” is one of Reichardt's most critically acclaimed films and, the first time I saw it, it left me incredibly cold. And bored, to be frank. It wasn't until a second viewing that I was able to get pass the chilliness and appreciate the film more. My reaction to “Showing Up” isn't that negative but I have to say, I can't quite agree with the rave reviews I've read either. “Showing Up” is an interesting film, with some really insightful things to say about the artist's relationship with their work and the struggles they face. I relate to that and see a lot of myself in the neurotic, frustrated Lizzy. Yet this is also a film that keeps the audience at a considerable distance and shuffles along at a sleepy pace. That makes a movie that otherwise might've really compelled me a lot harder to get into, personally speaking. [Grade: B-]

RECENT WATCHES: The Marvels (2023)

As 2023 comes to a close, it is apparent that the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and superhero movies in general, are no longer resonating with the general public the way they used to. Rampant speculation has already run wild about why this might be. Was it simply overexposure, when obscure characters like Black Adam and Shang-Chi were becoming the focus of multi-million dollar tent pole releases? Did "Avengers: Endgame, and subsequently the pandemic, put such a sense of finality on the phenomenon that it led to many people checking out? Maybe folks are just craving something new. All of these things are factors but I think the MCU's recent downturn at the box office can be most contributed to the same element that makes regular superhero comics hard to get into: Continuity lock-out. Take, for example, "The Marvels." This two hundred million dollar film is a sequel to the billion-dollar grossing "Captain Marvel," yes. It's also a follow-up to two separate streaming series. Not to mention you should probably watch the "Avengers" movies and "Secret Wars" for added context. That's a lot to ask of a general audience, especially when they have so many streaming services to choose from, each with inflating subscription rates amid an economically harsh time. While I'm sure "The Marvels'" box office failure, and what it means for our modern pop culture landscape, will be written about for years to come, this overlooks an important question: What about the movie itself? Was it any good? 

Following the events of "Endgame," Carol Danvers — the hyper-powerful superheroine Captain Marvel — has been flying around the galaxy, trying to untangle the Skrull/Kree War and just making a bigger mess of it. Kree leader Dar-Benn uncovers one half of a legendary relic called the Quantum Bands. She uses this to steal natural resources from other worlds and send them to the devastated Kree home world. The resulting cosmic anomaly entangled Carol's light powers with two other superheroines: Monica Rambeau, S.W.O.R.D. agent who gained light manipulating powers during the events of "WandaVision," and Kamala Khan, the New Jersey based Ms. Marvel, who wears the second Quantum Band. Now, the three women trade places whenever they use their powers. This tosses them together on an adventure to stop Dar-Been. 

It's gotten to the point where the people who dislike Marvel movies tend to do so on principle. And, honestly, I can sympathize with that. It's hard to be a lover of cinema and not see the effect Disney's cultural juggernaut has had on the industry as a net-negative. Yet, I'm still a life-long comic book nerd. I still derive enjoyment from seeing these characters and spending some time in this universe. From this perspective, "The Marvels" is frequently entertaining. The movie lives and dies on whether its central trio of actresses are interacting on-screen. Brie Larson continues to show an easy-going charm as Carol, balancing the weight the character feels with a quick wit. Iman Vellani's clear enthusiasm for the character of Kamala, and Marvel comics in general, is impossible not to get caught up in. The scenes where the young girl is giddy with fan-girl joy at getting to interact with her heroes are adorable. Teyonah Parris is a capable straight woman, bouncing off her partner in frequently charming ways. The scenes devoted to the three Marvels mastering their powers together, playing with a jump rope, or just bantering the obvious high points of the film. 

This has always been the best thing about the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Watching likable actors play charming characters and seeing them play off each other. Some of the better films in the franchise have also had luck indulging in quirkier science fiction elements. This is also true of "The Marvels." The scene where the film most comes alive, when you can most feel director Nia DeCosta's touch, is when the heroes visit a world where everyone communicates through song and dance. I'm always a fan of inserting musical numbers into non-musical movies and this scene, no doubt, enlivens the middle act of the film. The last third also features a wonderfully goofy scenario, amplifying the surprise of Goose the Cat being a ravenous alien known as a "Flerkin" from the first movie to delightfully ridiculous heights. The cherry on that particular sundae is a perfectly on-the-nose choice of soundtrack. 

As much fun as "The Marvels" can be, it can't help but come off as mid-tier Marvel sometimes. The sequel reminds me a lot of "Thor: The Dark World" — a movie I don't dislike nearly as much as most people do — in that it's parts are greater than its whole. "The Marvels" is a sad return to the days of forgettable, perfunctory villains. Dar-Benn is a thinly defined zealot willing to do anything to return her planet to its former glory. While some attempt is made to give her depth, namely that her jihad against Captain Marvel isn't unjustified, it doesn't stick. Zawe Ashton plays her as an undefined, generic evil-doer whose name I couldn't even remember after leaving the theater. Similarly, the likable heroes are flung into a plot that rarely justifies its own existence. The script jumps around the universe, throwing some convoluted cosmic lore and super powered technobabble at us, all in pursuit of a MacGuffin that can do whatever the plot requires of it. It's hard to care too much about any of the stakes here. 

"The Marvels'" more traditionally superheroic moments vary in quality as well. Some of the action sequences are a lot of fun, as they play off the characters' different abilities and the centric gimmick of trading places. A tumble on a S.W.O.R.D. ship, which involves Kamala doing some sweet drop kicks, is a notable example. Other times, "The Marvels" feels like so much CGI slop. Knowing what we know now about the special effects sweatshops Disney rubs for these movies, it's gotten increasingly harder to get any enjoyment out of watching Captain Marvel fly around and explode space ships or heroes blasting though portals. Not just because they look mediocre but because we know the unreasonable grinds that resulted in these weightless, oddly cropped combat sequences. 

It seems to me there's been a conscious effort — directed by whom, I can't say though I have my guesses — to blame "The Marvels'" box office performance on director Nia DeCosta. This idea that she abandoned the movie in post-production has been floated. Lots of directors work on one film while another is in post, so I think that's bogus. Honestly, DeCosta's attitude towards the project, that it belongs more to the producers than her, is almost refreshing. Ultimately, "The Marvels" is a mixed bag. A likable cast does what they can to elevate a routine, messy script and sometimes they succeed. These kind of things happen when a studio churns 'em out the way Marvel does. Does the public deserve better? Well, probably. But does "The Marvels" deserve to be called the movie that finally killed the Marvel Cinematic Universe? I wouldn't agree with that either. The truth is, a film like this probably would've been a huge hit just a few years ago. Over-saturation, driven by corporate greed, is the real culprit here, not a sequel that has its fair share of negative and positive qualities. [6/10]

Director Report Card: James Gunn (2023)

6. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

James Gunn's career continues to defy expectations. The guy who got his start making movies at Troma, who then directed two box office failures full of gore and antisocial behavior, directing two mega-budget Marvel superhero movies about an obscure, weird team of characters was unlikely. That he got fired by Disney over a troll campaign was even crazier, immediately leading to him getting picked up by Marvel's biggest rival in the superhero movie business. Gunn was then handed the keys to the entire DC Universe, going full-steam ahead with a slate-wide reboot. You'd expect that to be the end of his relationship with Disney. Yet even the otherwise mercenary Mouse House must've recognized that Gunn's sensibilities were an important part of the success of the "Guardians of the Galaxy" series. They hired him back long enough to finish the story he started. And while superhero movies in general haven't been doing great this year, "Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3" has still been acknowledged as the highlight of 2023's capeshit line-up.

Following the events of "Endgame," and having his beloved Gamora killed and replaced by a variant from a different timeline, Peter Quill is depressed. The leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy has been drinking while his teammates turn Knowhere into a proper city state. That's when a super powerful jerk named Adam Warlock flies out of the sky and body slams Rocket. Warlock is there under the orders of the High Evolutionary, a cosmic mad scientist obsessed with building perfect beings and worlds. The Evolutionary created Rocket and he wants his brilliant brain back to fine-tune his latest planet. He also built a copy protection into Rocket's body, preventing the Guardians from healing him. Thus, the team goes on another intergalactic quest to confront the High Evolutionary and save their friend. Along the way, they get back in touch with the Gamora that isn't theirs. 

What makes James Gunn an auteur, in a superhero movie landscape that runs on for-hire directors, is his need to revisit themes again and again in his movies. The "Guardians" films, "The Suicide Squad," "Peacemaker," and even parts of "Super" is the idea of misfits, people who have done awful things and believe themselves unworthy of forgiveness, coming together with other misfits to form improvised family. In its third volume, the "Guardians" story has fully embraced this element. Here, the Guardians are driven by their mutual love for Rocket and a desire to save him. All throughout, the characters call each other friends and family. They talk about love repeatedly. They bicker constantly but always come back together. The sequel's most touching moments are some of its smallest. Such as the ever-blunt Mantis erasing Drax's memory after admitting she thinks he's dumb. The always stoic Nebula breaking into tears upon learning Rocket is okay. Groot embracing his friends by extending his tendrils all the way around him. These moments are only meaningful because they re-enforce the ideas built upon in the previous movies. "Vol. 3" has earned the right to be sappy, because Gunn and his team have taken their time to develop these guys, to let us understand where they are coming from and why they act like this. They put in the work, so a climatic sequence of everyone saying they love each other is exactly as powerful as it should be and not insincere sentiment. 

Throughout the previous appearances of the Guardians of the Galaxy, we've gotten a pretty good idea of where everyone came from... Except for Rocket. The trilogy capper delves into the back story of the team's cantankerous raccoon mechanic. And it's a story full of vivisection, agonizing torture, cruel experiments, and loosing the only friends you've known. The film smartly cuts back and forth between the present story, of the gang trying to save Rocket, and his own recollections of this early life. This structure smartly keeps us hooked to both narratives, eager to see how Rocket got to be this way and whether or not he has a future. It also keeps the incredibly depressing backstory from dragging down the pacing too much, as fun action scenes and comedic dialogue are spaced between the weightier flashbacks.

Earlier this year, some questioned whether including such a violent, traumatic backstory in a film that had Happy Meal tie-ins was wise. Yet the severity of Rocket's origins tells an important story about empathy. In order for every misfit to be accepted into the Guardians' fold, it means overcoming your initial judgement of someone and understanding where they came from. You see this play out in Adam Warlock's subplot, who learns to treat other living things with respect by bonding with a fuzzy, dog-like space critter. That it's an animal that changes Adam's heart is important, as "Guardians 3" is a movie ultimately about extending empathy to animals. This is why the creatures that suffer the High Evolutionary's cruelest, most casual tortures are animals. It's why Mantis reaches out a loving hand to a fearsome monster late in the plot. It's why the film's climax centers around rescuing a whole horde of animals. It's even why the jokiest of story threads is about Cosmo, the psychic Soviet space mutt, begging for forgiveness. I wouldn't be surprised if this blockbuster flick turned some people into vegetarians. 

If animal rights is the main thing on Gunn's mind with “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” it's clearly not the only thing. The intentions become apparent when he has the movie's villain refer to one of its heroes, the raccoon that motivates much of the plot, as his “intellectual property.” Gunn got fired from the franchise he made so successful and so singularly his own. In that brief interim, Disney threatened to bring in another filmmaker to film the script he had already written. High Evolutionary wants to cut out Rocket's brain and use it to make his other creations “better,” which also can't help but make you wonder if Gunn is commenting on how his style has largely been grafted to other Marvel properties, like “Thor” and “Ant-Man.” Considering how critical so many people are of Disney/Marvel's role in forging our modern age of “IPs” and “content,” this thread line throughout “Guardians 3” feels very much like Gunn is biting the hand that feeds him a bit.

But maybe that's giving the guy too much credit. The filmmaker clearly has, and continues to have, no problem working with recognizable brands. Yet Gunn's relationship with properties like Marvel and DC has always been more melancholic than many of his contemporaries. Once again, the director and his team finds something meaningful in the nostalgic, pop culture debris that litters his hero's life. Star-Lord, as always, decorates his living quarters with reminders of his youth, like ALF stickers. When the team arrives at Counter-Earth, it's modeled after America in the 1970s. Seeing a suburban neighborhood, outfitted with retro cars and fashion, populated with mildly grotesque humanoid animals causes Quill's reflection on his childhood – and our own cultural fascination with our recent past – to be seen in a new light. Maybe the past wasn't so idyllic. Maybe it was just as strange as the world is today.

While there's been lots of complaints about the generic cinematography and forgettable CGI effects, the “Guardians” movies have always been a cut above. This continues to be true in the third installment. Gunn, clearly a lover of practical creature effects, packs the movie full of as much physical costumes and sets, as well as weird make-up jobs, as possible. The half-human, half-animal residents of Counter Earth are brought to life through lovingly grotesque practical make-up effects. The vampire bat family or little goat girl the Guardians meet look more like realistic fusions of animals and people than cute, marketable stuffed toys. The true visual centerpiece of the movie is when the heroes infiltrate the High Evolutionary's corporate headquarters, a space station made of organic matter. A giant tumor-like structure floating through space or security guards wearing armor that resembles bubbly crab shells are the kind of highly imaginative visuals I don't always expect from our modern comic book movies. Gunn embraces the weird side of the Marvel universe to great effect here. 

The High Evolutionary proves to be a fascinating villain too. He presents the exterior of someone totally under control, determined to show only his most civilized side to the world. Yet that mask often cracks, such as when he comes crawling to Rocket's cage in the middle of the night, practically in tears from desperation. Or any time he displays his God-like sway over his creations, clearly relishing his power over them. Chukwudi Iwuji nicely balances these two sides. The obsession with becoming a God-like creator stems from the Evolutionary's belief that there is no god. And he intends to fill that role. He sees the universe as a chaotic, ungainly mess that has grown out of control. He intends to take it apart and put it back together into something he deems perfect, even if it means he has to destroy everything and start over again repeatedly. It's the kind of villainous motivation that is clearly at odds with the ethos of these films, which follow outsiders and misfits that clearly wouldn't fit into such an idealized worldview. 

The villain's desire to fill the void left by a non-existent god isn't a viewpoint necessarily reflected by the film around him. What role the divine plays in the Marvel Cinematic Universe has never exactly been defined, if the possible exception of "Eternals." "Guardians Vol. 3" doesn't definitively provide any answers... Yet it suggests there's a life beyond. While at the point of death, Rocket is reunited with his loved ones. He's told that his story isn't over yet. That there's more for him to do among the living. This is well-trotted narrative trope but, in a film so concerned with whether a higher power exists and what role they serve, it's an especially meaningful scene. The exact existence of God isn't answered but the script does decide that we mortals have a purpose, that there is more to life than our physical existence.

That "Guardians Vol. 3" looks towards the afterlife is fitting. This is a film all about endings, including that ultimate ending of death. This manifests in the literal sense, of Rocket confronting the trauma of the first family he ever had dying and finally learning to move pass that agony. It's answered in a more figurative sense, of Peter mourning the death of his and Gamora's love, of learning to move beyond that loss. Ultimately, as the film moves towards an ending that brings this particular trilogy to a conclusion, this message extends to us, the viewer. We have to move on from these characters too, the film bringing their journeys to a far different place than they began in. Even if, as everything does in this cinematic universe, the story must go on in some way. But it's clear that, at the very least, James Gunn has finished telling his story with these characters.

It's probably for the best that the "Guardians of the Galaxy" saga has come to an end, strictly from a practical perspective. These are ensemble movies and the ensemble has gotten bigger with every installment. Somehow, "Vol. 3" manages to stay focused on moving its story forward while still giving everyone something to do. Star-Lord gets a juicy arc of overcoming his grief over Gamora's loss, while still giving Chris Pratt a chance to show off the easy-going charm that made the character a fan favorite in the first place. Zoe Saldana essentially plays a different character, allowing Ganora to be far gruffer and more of a rogue than ever before. The script builds some wonderful interactions between Dave Bautista's Drax and Pom Klementoff's Mantis, the two's oddball comic energy enlivening quite a few smaller moments. Such as when they infiltrate OrgoCorp or the way Drax proves himself to be surprisingly useful in the last act. I guess the truth is we love these guys by now. The cast and crew has such a sturdy grasp on who they are and how they work within this group. Watching them play off each other and be themselves is still a delight, because they've been crafted with such care. It allows the movie to have moments of hugs emotion, enormous action set pieces, and little jokes about car doors or couches. 

It's a big galaxy. The film even manages to find time for cameos from Sylvester Stallone. One of the joys of this series is that each corner is filled with something weird or interesting, like a guy with a carrot for a head, a henchmen being a hideous pig monster, or Nathan Fillion as a grumpy security guard. Among the new additions, Rocket's extended family of hideously mutilated animal friends are the most touching. Lyla the Otter, Teefs the Walrus, and Floor the ugly bunny monster all prove to be so lovable and fully realizes in such a limited amount of screen time. If any new additions to the cast doesn't totally work, it's Will Poulter as Adam Warlock. Adam Warlock is a pivotal character on the cosmic side of Marvel Comics. Poulter's version, a superpowered man-child with a limited understanding of the world, doesn't resemble the 616 counterpart much. In a film with so many characters and so many moving parts, Warlock comes off as something of an afterthought. His character arc, of learning empathy through a cuddly dog-thing, isn't as well realized as the other cast members. Poulter is funny in the part. Yet this ultimately feels like a character included more because the last movie's post-credit scene promised him and less because he was necessary to the story. 

As much as Gunn is focused on telling his heartfelt story with these oddball stories amid a wide, cosmic canvas, these are still superhero movies. There are certain action movie expectations to fulfill. The same imagination that powers the movie's sci-fi universe is on display in its action scenes. Groot sprouting wings after Star-Lord takes a dive from the villain's command ship proceeds an impressive shoot-out. A fluid action sequence has the entire time ripping through a hallway of enemies, sometimes rather literally, while the Beastie Boys blare on the soundtrack. The unique powers of the Guardians are nicely utilized throughout, such as Craglin mastering Yondu's magic arrow or Mantis using her empathetic abilities to distract her opponents. There's lots of explosions and space debris but the film is determined to make each one count. 

At this point, the “Guardians of the Galaxy's” soundtracks are as important to the movies as any of the writing or directorial decisions. The "Awesome Mixtape Vol. 3" selection is more eclectic than previous collections, owing in-universe to Quill upgrading to a Zune. The songs are pulled from multiple decades of pop history, providing a wider soundscape for the film. The opening choice, of an acoustic version of "Creep," takes us right inside the melancholy and isolation Rocket feels every day. Later on, the raccoon sings along to The The's "This is the Day," providing a more hopeful sense of introspection. Overall, the mood here is a lot more contemplative, with the dreamy reflection of Flaming Lips' "Do You Realize?" being a typical example of the general feel the soundtrack provides. Spacehog's "In the Meantime" got the highly promoted trailer spot, which was a fitting choice as the song's astral quality suits the cosmic setting. Which isn't to say there aren't plenty of upbeat tracks. Several bursts of propulsive pop music energy is provided by classic songs by Heart and Rainbow. The best action beat in the movie is set to "No Sleep 'til Brooklyn," which couldn't be a better combination of visuals and music. Probably my favorite needle drop is a deep cut from Alice Cooper, a sweeping but mildly sinister track that pairs fantastically with the introduction of the darker side of Counter Earth. Overall, it seems Peter Quill has gotten pretty into alt rock and post-punk, as the Replacements, the Mowgli's, and X all put in appearance.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is clearly on the downslope in 2023, so it's hard to say what role with superhero movies will play in the near future of American blockbuster films. Yet, as we look back on this moment in pop culture history, it's clear that Gunn's "Guardians" movies will stand out from the rest of the pack. They've always been more personal, more heartfelt, and more singular than the rest of the caped lot. "Vol. 3" is as bold as the others, in some ways a more thematically ambitious and character driven experience than the other two while sacrificing none of the crowd pleasing theatrics we expect from movies of this statute. If this truly is the last time we'll see these characters, at least together like this, it's a good note to take them out on. [Grade: A]

RECENT WATCHES: Something's in the Barn (2023)

Here in America, most of our Christmas traditions have their basis in popular culture. Our vision of the holiday has been shamed more by Clement Clarke Moore, Charles Dickens, and Coca-Cola than spiritual beliefs with deep, cultural roots. While I'm sure this is equally true across the sea, it has been refreshing to discover that Christmas is a little weirder in various enclaves and regions of Europe. Krampus tends to steal the show but a deep dive reveals other odd-ball or macabre creatures associated with the most wholesome of holidays. This has dovetailed with an international revival of interest in folk-horror. While I patiently wait for horror movies about the Mari Lywd or Badalisc, here's a Norwegian take on the idea. “There's Something in the Barn” is a yuletide horror/comedy built around the Nissie (known in Sweden as tomte), little gnome or elf-like creatures with long beards and funny hats. 

Following the mysterious death of a distant uncle, Bill and his family inherit a farm in the snowy Norwegian community of Gudbrandsdalen. Bill does his best to integrate into the new culture but runs into numerous roadblocks. His kids, teenage Nora and tween Lucas, hate the cold and being away from his friends. Though his newly acquired wife Carol practices a positivity-centric form of New Age thought, she too soon cracks under pressure. Lucas, however, makes an unexpected discovery: Living in the dilapidated barn on the property is a Nissie. The boy tries to befriend the elf-like sprite but his family's American Christmas traditions – namely, filling the area with as much light and noise as possible – pisses the entity off. It's not long before the ill-tempered elf calls down his friends to torment the family and take the property back over.

“There's Something in the Barn” is a Norwegian production, so Norwegian that its director's first name is Magnus. Despite that, the main characters are American and the film is mostly in English. You can tell this was a movie made with the goal of finding international audience. That naturally makes “There's Something in the Barn” a movie about culture clash. Bill attempts to embrace his Norwegian heritage, even choking down some lutefisk in one scene. Yet him and his family ultimately find the differences difficult to endure. Something repeatedly commented on is the lack of gun violence in Norway and how Americans are largely perceived there: crime-prone, hyper-violent vulgerians. With that in mind, this becomes a movie about Norwegians goofing on American culture. That the fish-out-of-water antics eventually results in the local little people causing chaos, means the stakes are higher than the usual comedy of this sort.

How amusing you find “There's Something in the Barn's” humor to be probably depends on a few things. Martin Starr – who previously appeared in “Dead Snow 2,” a somewhat similar film –  is actually rather on the dry side here. He plays the neurotic straight man to everything that happens around him. Most of the comedy here is derived from the elves being wacky little assholes. Do you find the sight of lawn gnome looking little monsters drinking, burping, farting, and trying to kill people inherently hilarious? I guess I must because “There's Something in the Barn” made me laugh pretty regularly. I imagine “Gremlins” was a big reference point here and this film captures a similar sort of live-action cartoon appeal. The film definitely veers too hard towards the wacky at times, such as a sled chase sequence. Yet, in its best moments, the film makes its monsters enjoyably ridiculous little bastards. 

Despite how knowingly goofball most of “There's Something in the Barn” is, I did find myself actually caring about the characters before the end. There's this theme running throughout the film that maybe people can put aside their differences and work out an unsteady peace, largely through references to the Oslo Accords. This sets up a typically sarcastic joke in the end but I do think the film's themes are sincere. You also see this in the journey its characters go on. By the end, Bill's kids adapt to their new home and learn to love Norway. I'm especially touched by the way Lucas – played by Townes Bunner, who is ten but acts much younger – tries to befriend the elf before the shit hits the fan. As flippant as the movie is, it's good to know that there's some sincerity when it comes to its ideas.

The other reviews on “There's Something in the Barn” have been mixed, as far as I've seen. I don't think the movie lives up to its awesome premise or title. (Though “Don't Go in the Barn!” would've been an even better title.) If you're looking for a Christmas-themed horror/comedy about evil elves from Scandinavia, this doesn't come close to topping “Rare Exports,” its most obvious counterpart. And if you're looking for a folk-horror tinged homage to “Gremlins” in 2023, you'll do better checking out “Unwelcome.” Yet “There's Something in the Barn” isn't bad either. If the tomte are going to become a regular part of American Christmas iconography – and it seems to be getting a major push lately – then I fully support there being a horror movie version of it as well. [7/10]

RECENT WATCHES: The Sacrifice Game (2023)

In 2018, Jenn Wexler would direct “The Ranger.” Though it's hard for a retro-leaning slasher movie to stand out in our modern indie horror landscape, Wexler's film managed to put her own twist on the premise, largely by bringing a punk rock energy to the proceedings. A woman making a name for herself in horror usually attracts attention. I'm sure the momentum of her career was paused slightly, thanks to COVID. However, Wexler is finally back with her second feature, “The Sacrifice Game.” And, hey, what do you know, it's a Christmas set fright film. This “Game” dropped on Shudder earlier in the month, where horror nerds can judge where this falls in the Christmas mayhem canon. 

In the mid-seventies, a quartet of killers are terrorizing a small town in the weeks leading up into the holidays. They enter homes and butcher people in ritualistic manners. The looming threat terrifies Samantha, a young girl left at Blackvale Academy as Christmas approaches. The only other student stuck at the school is the mysterious loner, Clara. The Christmas Killers show up on the academy's steps, worming their way inside by faking an injury. Soon, they trap both girls and a teacher in their twisted game. The murderers intend on summoning a demon with their bloody ceremony, as Christmas Eve slowly turns into Christmas morning. However, who the victims are and who the monsters are in this scenario is not immediately apparent...

When most Christmas horror movies are slasher films or anthologies, it is refreshing that “The Sacrifice Game” goes in a slightly different direction. For the first half of its runtime, this is unmistakably a twist on the home invasion movie. Granted, it's a mostly empty school being invaded by a band of roving psychos, not a home. Yet the intent is the same. The killers don't just murder their victims and get out. They tie them up, force them to participate in a twisted Christmas dinner, and play a number of psychological games with them. You can see the DNA of “Funny Games” or “The Strangers” here, though “The Sacrifice Game” isn't as sadistic or purposely intense as either of those. Largely because the murderers are a bit too exaggerated to take seriously, especially Mena Massoud as vamping ringleader Jude. It's also because “The Sacrifice Game” foregrounds its Christmas ambiance so much, creating an obvious ironic contrast to the violence on display here. 

When I saw that “The Sacrifice Game” is set in the seventies, my first assumption was that this is simply an aesthetic decision. Filmmakers like Wexler often set out to emulate the look and feel of retro movies, simply because they love them. Yet I do think “The Sacrifice Game” does invoke the decade in ways that aren't so superficial. Jude and his gang bring to mind Krug's family from “The Last House on the Left,” which was naturally inspired by Charles Manson and his inner circle. This reflects the lingering fears of the hippy subculture, of the changing cultural tide, still relevant at the time. One of Jude's group is also a Vietnam veteran, radicalized by his time overseas. While it could never do this the way actual movies from the seventies did, “The Sacrifice Game” does earn points for working the anxieties of its time period into its script. 

Unfortunately, the film takes a big narrative turn about half-way through. The home invasion premise essentially plays out to its logical end point. The story then continues pass that, slowly turning into a supernatural horror movie. This simply isn't as compelling, largely because the film feels the end to explain the mechanics of its demonic ritual a little too much. The movie really does feel like it's filling time until the finale, splitting characters up and leaving certain parties off-screen until the plot needs them. That last act features some really goofy attempts at scares, via monsters leaping into frame or a very mouthy villain. Wexler is attempting to turn audience's expectations and sympathies on their heads, via switching around who are the victims and who are the monsters. Yet it doesn't land, simply because none of these people are that well defined and the situation is too exaggerated to generate much tension.  

It's a bummer that “The Sacrifice Game” peters out so harshly before it's over. I was really enjoying the earlier sections, how it balanced a grim tension with a campier sense of throwback horror fun. “The Ranger” did that too, so clearly it's something Wexler is good at. Yet I think the script was trying too hard to be too clever, by subverting audience's expectations and catch us off-guard. If it wanted to do that, it probably shouldn't have foreshadowed its own twist quite so much. Still, I've got to give credit where it's due. The film looks good, has a solid cast, and works quite well before it starts to go off the rails. Of the roughly twenty Christmas horror movies that get made every year, this still isn't anywhere close to being the worst one in 2023. [6/10]

RECENT WATCHES: It's a Wonderful Knife (2023)

Despite only coming out six years ago, “Happy Death Day” has proven to be a surprisingly influential film. That film's success proved you really could put a horror/comedy spin on a classic movie premise and people would show up for it. Since that slasher movie take on “Groundhog Day” came out, we've gotten the inevitable sequel, a gory take on “Freaky Friday,” and a masked murder version of “Back to the Future.” And now, unsurprisingly, here's the Christmas version. “It's a Wonderful Knife” was assuredly conceived as a title first and a screenplay second. However, when I saw that Tyler MacIntyre, of the delightful “Patchwork” and “Tragedy Girls,” was in the director's chair for this one, I was intrigued. Once “It's a Wonderful Knife” started to win some decent reviews, I knew I had to add it to my December watchlist. 

Winnie lives in the town of Angel Falls. Her dad, David, works for land developer Henry Waters, who hopes to build a fancy shopping center. An elderly home owner – the grandfather of Winnie's best friend – is the sole holdout on he deal. On Christmas Eve, a maniac in a white robe murders the man, Winnie's friend, and several more people. Winnie defeats the killer, who turns out to be Waters. A year later, her family is more successful than ever but Winnie is heartbroken. She blames herself for everything bad that has happened and wishes she was never born. Her wish comes true and Winnie awakens in an alternate version of Angel Falls where no one knows her. Waters is mayor, her family is full of drug addicts, and the town is in squalor... In addition to the murderous Angel still roaming the streets, claiming more victims than ever. Now Winnie must find a way back home and unravel the mystery behind the murders. 

The most famous part of “It's a Wonderful Life,” George Bailey seeing what the world would be like if he had never been born, tends to overshadow the rest of the movie. That truly only occupies the last third of a two-hour runtime, in a story that details a man's entire life up to that point. “It's a Wonderful Knife,” meanwhile, lasts a brisk 87 minutes. Michael Kennedy's script has to set-up a similar amount of narrative legwork as Frank Capra's classic. There's a whole subplot about an evil land developer and various dramas involving Winnie's brothers and friends. “Knife” definitely feels a bit top-heavy, overwhelming viewers a little bit with an excess of characters and storylines right out of the gate. And that's before the slasher shenanigans even begin. I'm all for keeping movies like this as quickly paced as possible but maybe a little more room for all these developments to breathe, before we even get to the alternate universe events, would've been a good idea.

Luckily, like MacIntyre's previous horror/comedies, “It's a Wonderful Knife” does have a fairly likable set of leads. Jane Widdop, who has mostly done television up to this point, plays Winnie. Widdop has an adorable energy throughout that makes it easy to like her. Considering she got into this crazy situation through no fault of her own, the determination Widdop brings to Winnie, her drive to put right what has gone wrong, is especially a winning combination. Widdop also has strong chemistry with Jess McLeod as Bernie, the outcast that she befriends on this journey. I'm not sure why Justin Long – who mugs horribly, adopting a weird voice as Waters – was cast in that part when Joel McHale, whose natural smarminess is leashed as a fairly forgettable role as a dad. 

We associate the slasher genre with elaborate bloodshed. MacIntyre certainly proved he was capable of just that with his past films. Yet “It's a Wonderful Knife,” despite what the title might make you think, is focused more on stylishly displayed violence than gouts of blood arching through the air and bodily dismemberment. An axing scene is set against the flashing lights of a Christmas display. A movie theater proves to be a good location for a chase sequence, while a stabbing against a glass door is another notable moment. The film also manages to find a cool holiday theme for its masked murderer that doesn't go back to the often visited well of a killer Santa Claus. A white shrouded killer, with an indistinct face, brings both an angelic tree-topper and a ghostly spectre of death to mind. They give the killer a cool weapon too, a knife with handles like an angel's wings.

“It's a Wonderful Knife” is also proudly queer, featuring several gay characters in relationships and even going in a surprisingly frank direction in its last third. In other words, “It's a Wonderful Knife” has all the ingredients to become a cult favorite... Which makes it odd that I didn't love the movie more. Honestly, that rushed first act and Long's irritating performance really put me off. Maybe the film will grow on me more with repeated seasonal re-watches. The world isn't wanting for Christmas-themed horror movies but it is wanting for good Christmas-themed horror movies, so I imagine I will revisit “It's a Wonderful Knife.” [7/10]